The Wish Granter by C. J. Redwine
Ari tapped her fork against the tablecloth. She needed information about Llorenyae, about the fae, that only someone with an intimate knowledge of the place would have. If she could build the beginnings of an alliance on the ballroom floor in the space of time it took to dance a contradanse, she could do the same over a plate of breakfast food.
“These muffins are delicious,” Hansel said.
Ari nodded and glanced at the open door. Staff bustled by on errands and chores, but for the moment, she was alone with the bounty hunters. It was an opportunity she couldn’t pass by.
She looked up and found Gretel watching her with her eerily pale blue eyes. “I’ve always wondered about the fae.”
Gretel’s gaze didn’t waver, but Hansel shifted in his chair. “They’re best left alone, Princess,” he said.
“Yes,” Gretel said softly. “Stay in your safe little palace and leave them alone. You don’t want anything to do with the fae.”
“How did you two end up on Llorenyae? Isn’t it mostly fae?”
“There are human cities scattered throughout, each with its own leader, but all humans acknowledge the royalty of their respective fae court as the ultimate ruler of their half of the isle,” Hansel said.
Ari frowned. “You mean the Summer and Winter courts?”
Hansel nodded. “Half the isle belongs to the Summer Queen and half to the Winter King.”
“How did you become bounty hunters?” Ari asked.
Hansel’s eyes darkened, and Gretel went still.
“It’s a long story,” Hansel said, his tone implying that he wasn’t inclined to share any of it with her.
“Why do you want to know?” Gretel asked.
Ari tapped her finger against her plate for a moment, and then said, “I’d like to understand how one gets the courage to fight monsters and terrible fae creatures who have magic.”
“Do you need that kind of courage?” Gretel asked.
Ari held her gaze. “Yes.”
The girl nodded at Hansel, who sighed and said, “I wasn’t kidding when I said it was a long story, so here are the highlights. We were abandoned in the woods far from our home when we were little, a fae enchantress bespelled her home to look like it was made out of candy, and she kept a veritable flock of orphans locked away for things I’m not going to discuss. Gretel and I were there for years until one day she got careless. And then we killed her.”
“And once she was dead, we hunted down the other fae who’d bought orphans from her, and we killed them too,” Gretel said quietly.
“Turns out, we had a knack for it.” Hansel smiled grimly. “Before long, the Summer and Winter courts were hiring us to catch rogue fae, and the humans were hiring us to keep beasties out of their cities.”
“Rogue fae.” Ari considered her words for a moment, and then said, “We have a legend here. A bit of folklore about a creature called the Wish Granter. He’s supposed to be fae.”
Gretel cocked her head. “If I were you, I wouldn’t make a wish.”
Ari’s heart pounded hard against her chest. Was Gretel simply warning her to stay away from all fae? Or from Teague in particular? Time was running out. Soon the hunters would leave, Teague would feel threatened by the beasts or by Ajax, and Ari would lose her brother. She leaned toward Gretel and took a gamble. “There’s a man in Kosim Thalas who is rumored to be the Wish Granter. He does terrible things.”
Hansel put the rest of his muffin back on his plate. “We should go.”
Gretel remained unmoving, her eyes locked on Ari.
Ari had one more question that had to be answered. She drew in a deep breath as Hansel got to his feet and put his hand on his sister’s arm.
“Regular iron weapons don’t work against him. We need to know how to stop him. Would you have any ideas about that?” she asked, and then waited, stomach in knots, palms sweaty as she prayed that Gretel would give her something—one tiny scrap of a clue that could send Ari in the right direction.
“No, we haven’t. Gretel, let’s go.”
Gretel stood, and Ari sank against the back of her chair. She’d gambled, and she’d lost. Either they didn’t know of Teague, or they were too scared of him to tell her.
Or they knew him all too well, and Ari had just condemned both Cleo and her brother to a visit from Teague.
Hansel nodded briskly to Ari and then walked toward the door. Gretel met her eyes again, hesitated, and then said softly, “I’ve always enjoyed reading Magic in the Moonlight: A Nursery Primer.”
Ari sat up straight, question spilling across her tongue, but Gretel left the dining room.
It didn’t matter. Ari had information she could use now. A glow of triumph spread through her as she hurried to the library, slid the book off the shelf, and grabbed a sheaf of parchments. Sharpening a quill with shaking fingers (which, in retrospect, turned out to be unwise as she cut herself twice), she dipped the nib into a pot of ink and went through the primer, taking notes on anything interesting.
Nothing stood out to her. There were rhymes about tree nymphs and water sprites with pictures of ethereal fae with branches or waterweed for hair. Warnings about dancing with faeries beneath a full moon. A brief poem about a tall woman with a wolf’s head, bird’s talons for hands, and goat hooves for feet who left the secret of her power behind at birth and another about a witch who made pies out of children. Both were accompanied by illustrations that had made Ari shudder as a child. There were catchy poems about changelings and salt lines and iron hanging from one’s windows. Ballads about the Summer and Winter courts. Even a ballad about wish granters, because apparently on Llorenyae there was more than one. Ari studied the wish granter ballad for nearly an hour, but if it contained a secret she hadn’t yet learned, she couldn’t find it.
Turning to a fresh sheet of parchment, she began listing everything she’d learned about Teague.
The bulk of Teague’s business and employees operated out of east Kosim Thalas.
No one seemed to know exactly where Teague lived. Some said to the east of the city. Some said to the south, just above the sea. Nobody seemed to know any useful details about his house, which in and of itself was a useful detail. Maybe Teague kept his home a secret because he’d made so many enemies on the streets of Kosim Thalas. Maybe he was vulnerable there, though Ari had no idea where to even begin looking for his home, much less how to exploit it for weaknesses.
She went back to listing the things she’d learned.
He manufactured a powerfully addictive drug called apodrasi.
He sold pipe weed, apodrasi, stolen valuables, forged artwork, and people he either bought from other places or tricked into slavery. Many of these sales happened through the brokers in Balavata.
He was the Wish Granter.
He was fae.
He’d left Llorenyae and never returned.
Ari looked over her list and added another column—“Things I Know About the Fae.”
What did she know? Iron harmed them, but lost its power the older the fae got. Runes were effective when used with iron and spoken commands in the fae’s tongue, but she didn’t know any runes or any commands other than the two she’d overheard Hansel teaching the beasts’ handlers. She knew that Gretel believed an answer to her problems was hidden somewhere in the nursery primer.
She also knew that Gretel had warned her not to become involved with the fae.
It was too late for that. She’d been involved with a fae from the moment he decided to take advantage of her brother. And she planned to stop him, once and for all; but to do that, she needed to fill in the gaps in his history. Find out where he lived. Learn how to take him down.
And to do that, she had to start with the place where he apparently spent most of his time and energy.
She had to go into east Kosim Thalas.
TWENTY-ONE
“OUT OF THE question.” Sebastian slapped a shield onto the table in the middle of the armory and faced the princess.
“It??
“Sure it is, if your goal is to be dead by morning.” His voice shook. His entire body shook, and it took more effort than it should have to rein it in.
He’d stopped trying to argue himself out of being friends with the princess two weeks ago because when she’d said she could be relentless, she’d been telling the truth. They’d become close before he truly realized he’d forgotten to keep his guard up. But here was the cost of that friendship punching him in the stomach and sending waves of panic crashing through his body.
She wanted to go into east Kosim Thalas.
No, not wanted. That implied that she sometimes announced plans she had no intention of implementing. She was going into east Kosim Thalas.
Worse, she was going in looking for information about Teague.
It was a death sentence, and he had to make her see it.
“Princess Arianna, you have no idea what going into east Kosim Thalas means for someone like you.” He made a conscious effort to keep his hands from becoming fists. “You’ll be instantly pegged as an outsider, as nobility or merchant, and several things will happen. You’ll be robbed, beaten into submission, and then either sold to Teague as a slave or . . .”
He couldn’t finish. He couldn’t put into words the horrors unsuspecting youth from the nicer parts of the city experienced at the hands of those in east Kosim Thalas who’d spent years without enough food to feed their bellies but with plenty of injustice and pain to feed the rage that fueled them now.
She drew in a deep breath. “I know I’m risking another run-in like I had with Teague’s men in the market. And I have to be very careful that I don’t ask the wrong person a question, because it can’t get back to Teague. I have to do this, but I don’t want Cleo to pay the price. That’s why I was hoping you might come with me.”
He stared at her. “If you go through with this, then of course I’m coming with you. Did you really think there was a chance I wouldn’t?”
She gave him a relieved smile, and he took a step toward her.
“You don’t understand, Princess. All those things I just listed that would happen to you? They’ll happen to me too, if I’m not ready. If I’m not on guard. And even then . . . even then things happen there. It only takes a split second to lose focus and then lose your coin and possibly your life.”
“I don’t want to put you in danger.” Her thinking frown took up residence between her brows. “Maybe if I dress like I’ve always lived there, I could go in unnoticed on my own, and then—”
“No.”
“But—”
“I’m not discussing that option. Ever.”
Stars, his knees weren’t going to hold him if he couldn’t control his panic. He closed his eyes and fought to keep his mind from showing him the street runners’ faces if they recognized the princess. From seeing people pouring out of the buildings to surround them, everyone desperate for a piece of the princess’s wealth, and when that was gone, for a piece of her as punishment for being born outside east Kosim Thalas.
One mistake. That’s all it would take. One single mistake, and she would suffer horribly before she died or was sold to a broker.
“Sebastian?” Her voice was gentle. “If it’s too much to ask you to go back there, I can find someone else to go with me.”
“There is no one else.” He opened his eyes and found her standing right in front of him, her hand hovering in the air as if wanting to comfort him with a touch when they both knew there was no comfort for him there. “Unless you know of someone else who was raised there and who has a reputation for winning every fight—”
“I’m sorry.” She let her hand fall without touching him, and he told himself he wasn’t disappointed. Of course he wasn’t disappointed. That was a foolish thought distracting him from the real problem at hand. “I don’t know what else to do. I have to know where Teague lives—”
“Please tell me you aren’t planning to break into his home.”
“The thought crossed my mind, though it’s probably pretty hard to break into a fae’s house.”
“Argh.” He turned from her and began pacing through the armory, gathering weapons as he went. If he was going to escort the princess, stars help him, into east Kosim Thalas, he was going to do it armed to the teeth.
“I need to know if he’s hiding anything. If he has any weaknesses.” The princess grabbed a dagger and strapped its sheath to her ankle. “There has to be a way to bring him down.”
She slid a throwing star into her handbag, and he began praying that there’d be no need for her to throw it.
Squaring her shoulders, she moved toward the stairs that led from the armory to the arena.
He followed her into the arena and then outside. He was about to continue their argument when she stiffened and took a step back, nearly running into him. He peered past her and froze, his heart racing, as one of Ajax’s beasts, half crouching, half running on its hind legs, came straight for them.
“Daka,” the princess whispered.
Sebastian wrapped a hand around her arm and pulled her behind him as the creature thudded to a halt in front of Sebastian and locked its amber eyes on him. A deep growl grew in its chest as it thrust its face toward Sebastian and sniffed.
His knees were shaking, and every instinct screamed that he needed to grab one of the weapons he carried, but he knew he wouldn’t have time. If the beast decided Sebastian wasn’t allowed on the palace grounds, he would be dead before he finished reaching for a blade.
The beast pushed past Sebastian, its claws digging into his shoulder as it shoved him away from the princess.
He reached for his sword as it sniffed her, but then its growl softened into a whine, and it turned and loped away.
“I can’t wait to be rid of those things,” the princess whispered as the creature disappeared in the direction of the garden. Rubbing her arms briskly, she turned to Sebastian. “Ready?”
“If we’re going to go into east Kosim Thalas, then we do it my way. Agreed?” He waited.
“Agreed.”
“You let me take the lead. You do what I say. And if trouble happens, I will get you free of it”—please, please let him be able to get her free of it—“and you run. You run out of east Kosim Thalas, and you don’t stop until you are as far away as you can get.”
She glanced down at her generous curves. “I’m not much of a runner.”
He leaned toward her. “You and I both know you are not to be underestimated. If I say run, you run. You can do anything you set your mind to.”
“I like your confidence.” She smiled at him. “Now, what should I wear?”
Two hours later, Sebastian’s pulse was thunder in his ears and every muscle was coiled and ready for a fight as he walked beneath the crumbling gateway to east Kosim Thalas with the princess by his side.
Granted, she no longer resembled the princess. Her hair was done in a simple peasant’s braid. Her clothing was patched and dirty—she’d had to rip and mend a dress and then drag it through the garden to achieve the look—and she’d wrapped an equally tattered and dirty scarf over her head and covered most of her face with it as if trying to avoid a sunburn.
His cudgel was a solid weight in his hand, and he slung a bag of food for his mother over his shoulder as they approached the first line of buildings. Tension hummed through his muscles, and he focused on every movement, every sound that whispered toward him.
They walked rapidly. He tore his gaze from the people sitting on their front steps or smoking on balconies long enough to check that the princess looked anything but royal. She was walking with slumped shoulders, her head bowed, and her feet shuffling as if she were too exhausted to walk properly.
Movement caught his eye, and he snapped his gaze to the runners who hovered on the street corner. They knew him, but they weren’t used to seeing him with anyone. Their eyes were locked on the princess, and he could practically hear them making calculations as she moved.
There weren’t. He’d made sure of it. He’d double-checked every detail. Still, he gripped his cudgel as they walked past the runners and turned up the hill toward his mother’s place.
Dread curled through Sebastian’s stomach, oily and slick. When he’d looked at everything the princess hoped to accomplish in east Kosim Thalas, there’d only been one obvious solution.
His mother.
She used apodrasi. Thanks to his father’s line of work, she knew something about Teague’s employees and system of business. And she spent a lot of time doing favors for those employees in exchange for . . . whatever it was she wanted in exchange. Probably more drugs. He’d learned early on not to ask questions that he didn’t truly want answered.
If there was anyone in this part of the city who’d be willing to talk to him about Teague without disclosing that he’d been asking questions, it was his mother.
Unfortunately, there was also the possibility that she’d refuse to talk. That she’d scream and curse and beg for coin he wouldn’t give.
He had to force himself not to slow down as they came abreast of his mother’s building. Behind them, people had detached themselves from walls and doorsteps, just as he’d feared, but no one had attacked. Yet.
He figured they were waiting for the runners to come back with orders from the street bosses. He could only hope the fact that his father was one of Teague’s most valued collectors would give Sebastian and the princess a degree of protection.
The irony that his father might finally be protecting him by virtue of being a criminal wasn’t lost on Sebastian.
He climbed the rickety stairs, the princess following silently, and then stood outside his mother’s door, listening as always for a hint that his father had returned.